Growing up in my house meant knowing how to use drugs before knowing what a hug felt like, or at least this is how it seemed. I was never the type of kid who cried when they fell and ran to their mom for comfort, mostly because my mother’s vocabulary didn’t contain such words like comfort in it.

I was taught to “grow up” at age 5, not to depend on anyone for help especially if it meant coming to her with my problems. My mom knew how to line them up but never had a clue on how to love, this wasn’t all her fault nor am I trying to make it seem that way, my mother was never taught how to love either so it’s up to me to end the cycle, but I’m stuck on a wheel that just won’t stop moving and I have no idea on how to remove myself.